Live Review: King Khan & BBQ Show, Mesa Cosa

We arrive as Mesa Cosa seem to be in the middle of a psychedelic apocalypse with the band repeatedly screaming “save yourself”. The local garage party rockers are in full flight, taking the crowd at the Tote by the short and curlies and slapping us about the head with a raucous noise that is utterly infectious. Wearing their south-of-the-border influences on their sleeves, they wash up sounding a little like a possessed mariachi band playing covers of The Stooges. Mesa Cosa is a grinding three-headed monster of a band that deal in delightfully trashy lo-fi noise, featuring three wailing guitars and screamy group vocals. They reveal that after the gig they intend to drive all the way up to Sydney for their next gig. It's the perfect way to introduce a song that does a whole lot of hating on the harbourside town. There is something about Mesa Cosa that brings to mind the good-natured fun that Thee Oh Sees so effortlessly generate, but as the set progresses it becomes clear that these dudes are obsessed with the occult. A blinding version of Diablo conjures demons through satanic ritual, providing a spectacular end to a set that simply rocked hard.

The devil that Mesa Cosa conjured was of course King Khan, wearing a jacket with the word 'Lucifer' emblazoned across the back in a rainbow of colors. After all the Vivid shenanigans a few years back and their consequent 'break up', it's great to see The King Khan And BBQ Show back together and rocking'n'rolling once again. Once the stage is set up they mysteriously leave and return minutes later, Khan looking like a nawab in a glittery cape and sateen boxer shorts and BBQ looking like a blinged up medieval prince. Both are wearing gold lamé headdresses that were probably stolen from Amii Stewart's wardrobe. Amusingly, they are accompanied by faux Arabian shepherd boys dressed in faux thawbs, keffiyehs and beards, who delight in gogo dancing to the dynamic duo's riotous explosion of garage rock'n'roll jams that take in everything from doo-wop to psych to grinding old school punk without ever feeling completely like rockabilly. Their guitars lock into each other with ferocious intensity while BBQ also creates drums loops with his bass drum. In between songs, Khan indulges in lame jokes laced with smut. At times the dirty toilet humour is just plain gross. They definitely don't take themselves too seriously but when they play it's obvious they are seasoned shredders. BBQ is quite the romantic, dealing in rather old fashioned '50s-styled rock'n'roll ballads and love songs with a somewhat nostalgic wink. Khan on the other hand does not take us to the Land Of The Freak, but truly freaks us out with his more edgy punk presence.  especially when he sings a stomach turning song about eating poop. Sadly something all too many of us do figuratively, Khan takes a more literal approach to the subject matter in a way that might put a smile on your face if it doesn't make you throw up.

After about half an hour the Khan and BBQ show is over and the duo's friends from the Middle East become their backing band, which is introduced only as the Tunisian Tamil Monkeys (yes, we know). Khan assures us that this is an exciting first as the duo has never played with a full band before. While the group provide fuller arrangements, we miss out on Khan and BBQ's guitar playing as they concentrate on singing and playing the tambourine for the rest of the gig. Nonetheless, they provide a carefree evening of guitar rock'n'roll that has the joint jumping.